chasing dragons
by prismatically inked
Summary: AU. You and I. Insanity has never been so lovely.
1. o1

**project: **chasing dragons  
><strong>dedication: <strong>to Les, of course; this will be _awesome. _(And to Briony, of course, because she's just amazing.)  
><strong>BrionyNotes: <strong>I am so bad at this short-drabble thing. ;D  
><strong>LesNotes:<strong> I just have to say that I am so honored to write with this girl. Cheers~

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><p>.<p>

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ASYLUM is many things.

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ASYLUM is beautiful.

It was painfully, achingly beautiful — as sweet and as enchanting as the soft, sorrowful song of a caged bird; as mysterious and dark as the shadows themselves; as fantastical as a child's bedtime dream. The sky was a bright, vivid blue, only a few clouds marring an otherwise spotless canvas; the scent of honey hung in the air, thick and heavy above the emerald grass below. Other than an old oak tree, its branches twisted and darkened with age, the field was empty; it was simply an expanse of beautiful nothing — of blue seeping into green, like painting dripping down a canvas. A dragonfly fluttered through the air, its wings shimmering a kaleidoscope of pale colours as it flew, and her eyes traced it's pathway in wonder.

Stood in the middle of the field, Haruno Sakura breathed out a long, soft sigh, her hands — clad in faded, red gloves — bunching up the petticoats of her dress, as she stood. For a few moments, she simply stood there, her chin tilted up to the sky, her eyes closed. A slight wind picked up, tugging playfully at her hair; her dress billowed, blossoming like the petals of a rose, but she made no effort to push the petticoats down.

Instead, she simply stood there, her mind blank, simply _being. _

Everything was so intricate, so detailed, so _beautiful_, that she could not help but _look_; and she had to look hard, if she wanted to see every little detail. If she wanted to see the butterfly, with the wings so pale, you could see _through _them, land upon a violet-spotted flower — if she wanted to see the man with the antlers stood graze at the edge of the field, before disappearing into the distance — if she wanted to see the honeydragons buzz through the air, wings humming as they danced among the clouds. It was such a magical, fantastical place — oh, if there was one thing she truly loved about this world, it was its beauty.

She sat down, then, her fists curling within the grass, her legs — clad in black-and-white stockings — sticking out in front of her. Wriggling her fingers, she tipped her head back again, hair tickling the bare of her back, and let out a content sigh. This world — _this game_, she corrected, for that was what this world was; part of a _game_ — could be so peaceful, sometimes—

A shadow fell over her, and she winced, opening one eye. She saw orange — bright, _bright_ orange, like the colour of the sun — and black; black suit trousers and a loosened black tie, complete with a crumpled black jacket, tied around his waist. Vivid blue eyes stared out at her from beneath messy blond hair — it stuck up here and there, frantic; it was almost, perhaps, as frenzied as the two shaggy ears that stuck out from his head — they stood straight up, as if standing to attention, and twitched slightly as he gazed at her.

A huge grin spread across his face.

"Naruto," she greeted, closing her eyes again and hoping he wouldn't jump on her again; the last time he had, she'd ended up with mud streaked all down the back of her dress and, as a result, he'd ended up with a black eye.

"Sak—ooh—_rah!"_

She winced at the way he butchered her name — the way he drew out the last syllable, until it sounded like a cry of pain instead of her _name_ —, but couldn't help herself from grinning anyway; it was so like Naruto. And when his arms wrapped around her waist, as he launched himself at her, she wasn't even the slightest bit surprised — not even when she found herself lying flat on her back, her hands placed against his chest as he straddled her, still grinning like a maniac.

"Get off me, you oaf," she replied, but a tell-tale smile slipped across her face, "It's nice to see you too."

"You _know_ you shouldn't just be sittin' out here, Sakura," he said, his brow furrowing, pouting slightly as he attempted to look stern, "I mean, I got myself all hurt and stuff just tryin' to _find _you!"

With that, he pulled up his sleeve, revealing his arm to her; a long, thin gash ran zig-zag down it, and his skin had turned awfully pale. She found herself rapidly paling too — the sight of blood had yet to become familiar to her, and she still wasn't used to the jovial way everyone treated injuries in this place —, and she blinked up at him, with wide eyes. "Why didn't you show me before?"

"I was too happy to see you," Naruto grinned, before shrugging, "'sides, I've still got plenty of Health — it takes a lot to kill the March Hare, after all."

"You need to be more careful," Sakura scolded, but he simply shrugged, attempting to pull his arm away — she gripped it firmly, fixing him with a pointed glare. "Hold _still_, you idiot, I'm trying to help."

"Ouch, quit it, Sakura, that _hurts—_"

"It's _going_ to hurt, if you keep struggling—"

"Stop _pinching_—"

She ignored him after that, twisting his arm in a way that had to be uncomfortable — he let out an indignant yelp, screwing up his nose in a way that would be cute if it weren't for the fact that she was so _furious_ at him —, and held her left palm over the wound. After a few seconds of concentrating, her palm began to glow pale, translucent green; she watched, with a mixture of curiosity and pride, as the wound began to heal. Muscle grew, skin knitted itself back together, a scar vanished — all that was left was a silvery circle where the injury had been, and even that began to fade.

She noticed Naruto gazing down at his arm in fascination; she pulled her hand away, letting go of his arm and feeling ever so slightly guilty; he looked so grateful, after all, with his eyes wide and his grin even wider. This was becoming routine, she realised; she'd come to expect him, to expect the injuries, and that frightened her. He was her only friend in the Game; the only one she could trust, the only one who would fight beside her — the only person who would gladly die for her; and that scared her more than anything else.

"Stop getting hurt over me, idiot," and she was frightened to find herself whispering — frightened to feel a lump build at her throat — frightened to feel red-hot tears prick at her eyes. "Just stop it, okay?"

"Ah, Sakura-chan, I will, I promise! Just _please_ don't cry!"

She felt his arms wrap around her then, and she buried her head against his chest, willing herself not to cry; sometimes, the Game felt so _real, _it became so _scary. _

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ASYLUM is dangerous.  
>will you lose yourself?<p>

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	2. o2

**project: **chasing dragons  
><strong>dedication: <strong>to clockwork rings, and silly things.  
><strong>BrionyNotes: <strong>Misha Collins, you ate my heart, you monster.  
><strong>LesNotes:<strong> I like playing in arcades. ;D

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><p>.<p>

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ASYLUM, ASYLUM.  
>you little deceiver.<p>

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Humans were such petty little things.

They're greedy – greedy, greedy little monsters. They yearned and ached for things that were far, far out of their reach; and they thirsted for it; it dulled their senses; it tampered with their brains, with their common sense, with their conscience. And they'd do _anything_ – _anything _– to get it. And when they do…

Oh, when they do, the victory and the satisfactions lasts all but a week.

And that's just it.

Victory.

Satisfaction.

It translates into happiness, doesn't it?

Happiness.

It's only a visitor.

It doesn't stay for long; it gets _bored_. And when it leaves, it makes sure to make you _crave_ for it; make you want to _find_ it; search the world – the seven seas and anywhere in between to find that victory, that satisfaction, that _happiness_ until you're yearning and aching for something you can't have, again.

That damn cycle.

It drove people _mad_.

ASYLUM was no different.

ASYLUM was such an ethereal place. It was a beauty – it was like Heaven on Earth. It was… _magical_. Green was so much greener; blue was so much bluer; air was so much airy and clean. ASYLUM was like the perfect home. ASYLUM made everything so much better; so much worth it. It was a dreamland. It was everything anyone could ever hope to see and to witness.

Or, it was.

At least for Tenten.

Tenten had been like any other human; bored out of her wits and in search for an adventure. And ASYLUM – oh, ASYLUM was like a strike right dead and center, to her chest; the adrenaline flowing in her veins turned up a notch and she was running everywhere. She ran and ran and explored until she was more than positive she knew every corner – every nook and cranny within ASYLUM.

And then she got _bored_, again.

Just like a human.

A petty, petty human.

She'd open her eyes and reappear within ASYLUM and she'd stand there for hours on end, trying to find a means to fill up that crave and that ache to find that happiness.

But.

Today was different.

Yes, Tenten decided, as she stood in the middle of a dimmed meadow, much like she always did, today was going to be far, far different. Because unlike the never ending days that have passed, she would not stand there, like a statue, and simply crave and yearn and ache like a petty human. She would not – because in ASYLUM she was everything _but_ a petty human.

She was not human at all, she stated, to herself, as she squared her small shoulders.

She was not human – she was not human – she was not human.

Her violet-black tail swayed, behind her, before wrapping itself around her waist just as her equally violet-black cat-ears twitched, over her head. Tenten tilted her head, to the side, for a second, crouching down and staring at the shrubs surrounding the meadow she was in.

Her ears twitched, some more, as she strained her hearing, hazel eyes, rimmed black, narrowing in concentration.

She could hear something.

She could hear _whispering_.

Tenten puckered her lips, a bit, before taking off, on all fours, towards where the melodic whisperings were. She paused, in a crouch, in front of an extended – perhaps never ending – flowerbed. And, oh, she was positive these flowers were some rare breed she'd never seen in her life, before. But she could see Cosmos, and Dahlias, and lion shaped Dandelions, and Carnations, and Sunflowers, and Roses, and Tulips, and Lilies, and so, so many more!

She lowered, in her crouch; switching to lie down on her stomach, face hovering over the flowerbed, hazel eyes staring, lips twitching at the sides.

"Hello," she said, husky voice a hypnotic purr.

The whispering ceased, almost immediately; it was replaced, instead, with a chorus of startled, breathy gasps.

"Oh how very, very peculiar," Tenten murmured, disposing her chin onto her gloved palm. She lifted her legs up and swung them, behind her, back and forth, her tail lifting up and dancing from side to side – curling, and uncurling. "Flowers that talk. I wonder…" She tilted her head, again, lowering down to stare at a rose, in the eye. "Why have you only started to talk until now, pretty flowers? I've been here, in this meadow, for a long time and never once did I hear you utter a word. You could have kept me _company_."

A soft, soft whisper erupted, then. Tenten's ears twitched, again, as she fought to catch on to what they were saying. But the whispering was so, so low – not even her pretty cat-ears could catch a thing they were saying. This annoyed Tenten, causing her eyebrow to twitch and her tail to sway, violently.

"Surely," she hissed, resting her chin on her steeped fingers, on the grass, for a second. She rolled around, her black, vinyl catsuit making her blend in with the shadows in the meadow. She was upside down, staring up at the flowers and smiling at them as she said, "Surely, you don't want me to _pluck_ you off the ground and get you to let me in on all the gossip, hm?"

And everything went still, for another moment, before the flowers swayed back and forth and side to side, much like Tenten's tail. She watched, them, with outmost interest, twirling back around, on her stomach, for a second before disappearing out of sight and manifesting herself just above them, in a laying position.

"_Something foul is in the air_," she heard the Carnations whisper.

_"She's here_," hissed the Roses.

One of the Dandelions roared at her, making her crinkle her nose in distaste.

"Who's here," she purred, adrenaline beginning to flow up and down her veins.

The flowers whispered some more – whispered fragmented comments, incoherent facts and statements. But Tenten heard them say it – heard them say a name. And her yearning and aching tingled, in the pit of her stomach. She chuckled, lowly, humming in complete satisfaction as she slowly began to disappear out of sight. First went her legs, then her arms, then her torso, then her ears, then her tail, then her eyes and nose until all that was left was her ghastly hum and her wide, wide, crescent-shaped grin.

The Cheshire Cat had been just _craving _for a little fun.

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ASYLUM, you deceiver.  
>your secrets are so yummy.<p>

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